Choosing Life
by caffeineaddict13
Summary: J/B oneshot. And it almost surprises you that it doesn’t hurt to see him dying like you thought it would.


**A/N:** This turned out a lot longer than my usual stories. Um, basically it's what would've happened if Bella had decided not to marry Edward.

--

It's simple, really. You never really imagined it would be this simple. You fill up your bag quickly, not really caring what you take—not of it matters anyway. You are glad that you don't have to worry about packing up your memories.

The goodbyes aren't as hard as you thought they would be. You feel a tug on your still-beating heart as you hug Alice, and she promises to call you every day, and she whispers, "Don't worry, you'll be fine," and you believe her. Because no one bets against Alice.

Emmett pulls you into a bear hug, his big frame suffocating, and you laugh and don't mention that you can't breath. He ruffles your hair and calls you a clumsy human girl, but there is a sadness in his eyes when you say you'll never forget him.

Esme pulls your chin up and tells you that you will always be a daughter to her, and you feel your tears threatening to fall but you swallow them back, finding comfort in her hard, motherly embrace and the cold kisses she leaves on your cheeks.

"If you ever need anything, you can always find me," Carlisle says, placing his hands on your shoulders and tilting his head as he looks at you. "Don't hurt yourself, okay?" He chuckles, and you bit your lip before telling him you'll try.

Jasper is next, and when you put out your hand to shake his, he surprises you by dragging you into a hug. It's cautious and short and you awkwardly place your hands on his back, his cool cheek pressing lightly against yours. He backs up quickly and smiles at you, and when he says he'll miss you, you believe him.

You saved the best (or worst, depending on how you looked at it) for last. Your cheeks flame red when you walk up to him, and you internally kick yourself for being so nervous. He looks at you with his golden eyes and when you see them you want to tell him that you were kidding, you're not going, you're not leaving him, you'll stay forever. But he purses his lips and places his long fingers on your cheekbones, says, "You're doing the right thing, Isabella," and you forget to breath. You kiss him softly, and it tastes like chocolate and tears and The End.

"I'm sorry," you say as you press your head against his marble chest, but you both know that you're not. "I'll always love you." You're not lying that time.

And then you are in the truck and you are looking at them through the window, their pale faces all different and so very much the same, and you have déjà vu from that first day in the cafeteria, and it surprises you how little has changed. They are still beautiful and mysterious, and you feel like you know everything and nothing about them at the same time.

When you drive away, you don't look back to see his face. You know what it will look like. And it almost surprises you that it doesn't hurt to see him dying like you thought it would.

--

Months pass and Alice keeps her promise, calling you daily and even visiting every couple of weeks. It's never for more than a couple days, and it doesn't bother you because you know she'd miss Jasper and you are not jaded enough to forget what being away from love feels like.

Sometimes Emmett comes along, chatting about the stupid jocks in the new high school they're going to, about the unfortunate lack of grizzly and it makes you smile that he, at least, has not changed. Once, he brings along Rosalie, and she looks at you with a respect she never had before, and you smile at her and realize you've come to an understanding.

You are going to college now, not in Alaska or Washington or Florida but in Texas, where the sun shines the way you like it and all the boys have cute southern drawls. You major in English and consume the required reading like M&M's, dominating all the conversations in your classes.

Your roommate, Karen, is sweet and quiet and reminds you of Angela Webber, and soon you have a group of friends to hang out with on Friday nights. The day after finals you have all the girls and you invite Alice, proud of your stunning little pixie, proud of her gorgeous clothes and big smile. Everyone loves her, and soon you are all in your pajamas playing truth or dare like you did back in sixth grade.

Karen asks you about your ex-boyfriends, and Alice looks at you worriedly, ready to cut her off, but you shake your head and sigh.

"There was only one, really," you say, then crinkle your brow. "Well, two…" You laugh. "I guess you could say I've had some pretty complicated relationships." They all chuckle and lean in, asking you questions like what they looked like and where they are now and why you broke up. You tell them as much of the truth as you can, and you trade glances with Alice at how _human _it sounds without all the extra stuff—just a high school romance and a love triangle; just a silly girl and hopeful boys and things that simply _fell apart_.

When they all leave in the morning, you are lying in bed with Alice and the tears start to fall, and then your are sobbing, the hot, salty drops sliding quickly down her cold skin, her musical voice whispering soothing words. A few hours pass and you have calmed down enough to talk.

"Do you think I did the right thing?" you ask her, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

"Yes," she answers.

"Do you think I really loved him?" You look at her through puffy lids and she is silent—you can see her debating whether to tell the truth.

"Yes," she finally says.

You lean into her and she circles her thin arms around you. "Nothing makes sense," you mumble, before drifting off to sleep.

--

Every day you grow stronger. Every day you think of him less and less and you smile when you get A's on your essays, devote more time to studying and Saturday night parties and before you know it you no longer have to fake your smile.

It is the second year of college and you and Karen rent an apartment on campus together. She has become your best friend, and Alice crinkles her perfect nose in a little bit of jealousy, a human gesture that makes you laugh.

When Karen brings her boyfriend over you politely introduce yourself, barely noticing the distant _pang_ in your chest when you see them hold hands, touch each other's backs, kiss and smile and love. You discreetly remove yourself from the room when they are together and try to avoid plans that involve all three of you in the same place. If Karen notices, she doesn't say anything, only sometimes you catch her looking at you with concern and you go and get a book and try to hid the leftover sadness in your expression.

--

One day, you get a phone call.

"It's me," his husky voice informs you when you pick up the receiver, and you aren't surprised at the grin that immediately stretches across your face. He tells you that he heard from Charlie that you were living in Texas, and he sheepishly admits that it has taken him two months to finally work up the nerve to call.

You invite him over the next weekend, emptying your schedule and ignoring the smile that seems plastered on your skin. Karen laughs at you, asking what could possibly get you in such a good mood.

"Got a call from an old friend," you answer cryptically, and begin cleaning the apartment until you can see your reflection in every surface available.

You are sitting impatiently on the couch, straightening your clothes and smoothing your hair, then scoffing at how much effort your are putting into your appearance. This was the boy that had seen you at your worst, and you were worried about the crease in your skirt?

There's a knock at the door and you jump up, knocking over a few magazines in the process. You curse under your breath but leave them there, running to forward and pulling the door open. And there he is: just as tall and dark and beautiful as you had remembered. His hair is long again, shiny and black—it reaches his chin where you find the same wide grin that you loved so much back in high school.

He chuckles "Bella," but before he can say anymore you have jumped on top of him, wrapping your legs and arms around his torso, pressing yourself so hard against him that you are sure not even a molecule of dust could fit between you. You crush your lips to his, and he places his big hands over your cheeks, swallowing you whole.

You hear a loud _click _coming from inside you, a sudden shift in your body, and you realize that _this_ was what had been missing all along. _This_ was the reason your knees shook every time Alice mentioned going "back home" to visit Charlie, the reason you shook your head whenever a boy asked you out for coffee. _This_ was the reason you had never felt complete. And _this_ was the sound of you becoming whole again.

He groans your name and you bite his lip. He presses you against the wall and you reach for his belt buckle, wanting him after all this time, wanting to be with him, to hold him, to _love _him, and he tugs at your wrists and tells you, "Bella, honey, we have all the time in the world."

And you shake your head and whisper, "No, but we have enough," and fall back into his arms.

--

Karen isn't surprised when he finds him in the kitchen the next morning, shirtless, cooking eggs. She merely raises her eyebrows at you and you giggle, saying, "This is Jacob," and sitting down to breakfast.

Weeks pass and you are happy again. Alice comes to visit with a gleam in her eyes and squints suspiciously at you as she says bluntly, "You stink," and you cover your mouth to hide the grin.

You were afraid that she would be mad at you, but she sounds sincere when she tells you that she's glad, and you are secretly rejoicing when she tells you that she can't see your future _at all_ anymore.

He come over often, and all your friends laugh when you tug along your six-foot-eight high school boyfriend through campus, showing him off and kissing him full on the lips every time you see a girl check him out. He doesn't complain, his lips tilting upwards when you push your mouth against them.

--

You are sitting in bed when you tell him.

"I love you," you say. And it's the truth. He admits that he always knew it, and you roll your eyes at his cocky grin, biting down on his collarbone. "Mine," he whispers as he takes your chin in his palm, and it is then that you realize you made the right choice.

Because this makes sense. And somewhere in the back of your head, you knew it all along.

--

**END**


End file.
